free form poetry, funny poem, funny post, mental illness, poem, poetry

🍸🍹Silly New Year’s Eve Poem 🍷🍹

Happy New Year to all of you

I could not wear my high heal 👠👠

I tried them on but my 👣 must have grew

So then I drew a 💖 for you

I thought I might ask you for a 💋😘

But I ate some 🎂that looked like this  🍰

I did my hair and tied it with a 🎀

Then painted my finger 💅 and my toes

All dressed up with no place to go

I went outside to see the 🌙🌖

Came back inside to wrap  a  gift 📦 for you

Used the 🎀 from my up in hair

But that 🍦 🍧melted far too soon

Wrote you a song 🎶 on my 🎸

Went back outside to see the 🌠🌌

Came back in again to play 🎹 for awhile

Then wrote this poem to make you 😄

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

free form poetry, mental illness, poem, poerty, spoken word

Time and Perception

Somewhere there are open seas

Waves more powerful than any man

Dolphins playing together

Never minding any schedule or

The time on the clock

Time is stopped …yet still moving

Relative to the perception of

The particular creature or living thing

Is it in the pressing forward,

that we live?

Or in the moment …that suspends itself…

Stopping all clocks…

and defying the rules,

that humans have designed

To try to contain, explain, manipulate,

rule over, control and wield time…

Like a sword or a crude tool

Is time less powerful than the ocean?

Can we contain the waves ?

Or make them stop undulating?

With all of our clocks, wristwatches,

calendars and planners

We have lost truth and importance

Priority, patience and resilience…

Compassion and empathy

Intimacy and detachment

There has been a delusion

Created by people we never met

And taught to our brains

Filed and coded into the subconscious

But it is wrong in important ways

The arrogance of man to define time

And attempt to rule over it

In such superficial ways

For time is not without us…

It is within and part of us…

Our reality is a perception

And perception is our reality

Each perception somewhat unique

yet the same

To separate and detach from this delusion…

Created by others who want to rule you

Control you, manipulate you

And own you…

Would be truly powerful…

Time is a perception

Beyond understanding and control

And yet…

Manipulated and controlled by your perception

 

 

 

 

free form poetry, healing poetry, mental abuse, mental health, mental illness, poetry

Exceptions

Black and white thinking

is simple and rigid

Stale and predictable

Solid and stagnant

It does not allow 

for exceptions and alterations

changes mid stream

Doors that may open

right in front 

of eyes

that have blinders on

Black and white thinking

keeps out the possibilities

that we may be wrong

in the very place

where we need to see something new

Black and white thinking

keeps to the outside edge

Ignores the middle

where the colors flourish

 twirl and blend

and create possibilities

compassion, free form poetry, friendship, humanity, inspiration, kindness, mental illness, poem, poetry, self love, self-esteem, self-help, spiritual

More

Humanity needed in the world of humans

Soft sweet touches

An understanding ear to hear

Laughter bursting from the small bodies of children

Old hands carefully baking bread for a neighbor in need

Or crafting a blanket with yarn for a stranger in the hospital

A nurse’s reassurance to a frightened patient

Looking at them with the self confidence of the profession; but adding something personal in their glance

A worker willing to go outside the usual procedures  and protocol…in the name of  helping someone who is in danger of foreclosure on their family home

Too many medical bills and not enough time…

Time spent working to take care of loved ones has to be balanced against the need to just be with them

Sitting next to a stranger and matching their body language… their hopeless slouch on the bench…

just to let them know someone sees them…and they are not forgotten

…they are not invisible

Humanity enough to pay the extra 2 dollars for the pizza at the Mom and Pop shop; to drive the extra mile to get there

Rather than paying the “fast-food- dictators” their tithe;  the Mama Rosina Pizza places need to be there…on the Main Streets

What happens when no one cares anymore about the “little” people; will they truly become little people after all?

And the smallest gestures of holding doors for a mother carrying a child and helping the elderly woman cross the street safely…

What will becomevof these small acts of random kindness ? What shall we say to those …who call us foolish for wasting our time…

On people of no consequence?

Who has the right to determine who is more or less significant?

And what does this say about mankind…

If we are just too busy spending time making money…and nothing more?

Isn’t there something further? Isn’t there something more?

 

 

bipolar disorder, free form poetry, mental illness, poetry, poetry challenge

In the End There Can be Only One – Poetic Form

Form for this poem – This is a form of increasing the number of syllables by one each line until you reach ten syllables. Then decrease by one each line, until you end on one syllable. 

Syllable pattern – 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. 9. 8,7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

Because… in the end… ” there can be only one. ” Highlander Movie 

Yes,  I made this form up just for fun.

Try for yourself and link your poem in the comments below. 

One More

Faith

Seeking

Truth  revealed

Darkness and light

Intertwined denied

By manipulators

Smoke and mirrors parlor games

Machiavellian players

Keep their pawns in a fog covered veil

Moving them like puppets on thin strings

Making the rules as they’re breaking them 

Until one player finds the blade

And cuts the strings that hold them

With a swish of their hand

The veil is parted

Tables are turned

Free the hands

Of one

More

free form poetry, internet guitar lessons, mental illness, poetry, romance, romantic poem, romantic poetry, sad poetry

Enough

I remember your laugh

And your long,  rock-star hair

That I used to run my fingers through

And wrap the loops of your curls

Around my fingers with gentle care

It was like a multi-sensory high

Just being with you

Your hands carressed my 20 year old skin

You made me promises I didn’t think you could keep

I left because I thought I could find

Someone who was better than perfect

At 20 I wasn’t so good at figuring

These kinds of things

And now it has been 25 years

And I have met men, loved them,

Married them, dated them,

Been destroyed by them…

And gathered myself in pieces

Up from the dust where they left me

Without ever looking back…

But in two decades of loving and losing

Being a friend and hoping for better

I have never found anyone

That was the kind of best friend you were

Unconditionally accepting me

No matter what I shared

Or anyone that

Lit the passion’s fire quite so high

I have never replaced you

I don’t know why I thought I could

Twenty or so years later

I wish I had not left you

But if I had stayed I never would have

Known just what I had

Time and age can teach lessons

That we can never go back

And fix

But you will always be in my heart

And that has to be enough

50 shades of gray, 50 shades of grey, domestic abuse, domestic violence, fifty shades of gray, fifty shades of grey, free form poetry, mental abuse, mental illness, narcissist

I am Only Human …Poetry of Mental Abuse

Annie's Poetry

I am human

I am strong…

I am weak

I can feel

I can break

I can heal…

The pain..

In your body

In your mind

But I am human

You can take

What you need

But not too much

I can bleed

I can break

My mind

Can only take

An certain amount

of TORMENT

TEASING

REJECTION

HUMILIATION

DISRESPECT

INTENTIONAL CONFUSION

MANIPULATION

ABUSE

GASLIGHTING

Before it

SCREAMS!

Disorganizes

Bleeds

And eventually…

DIES

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50 shades of gray, 50 shades of grey, child abuse, domestic abuse, domestic violence, fifty shades of gray, fifty shades of grey, free form poetry, life, poem, poetry, post traumatic stress disorder, ptsd

The Silent Voice of Victims of Abuse…poetry for mental healing

No

One

Hears

the silent

screams 

of the

victims

No

One 

Sees

The scars 

we

cover up

No

One 

Feels

The sadness

in

our hearts

No

One 

Knows

the terror

of our

nightmares

Every

One 

Thinks

the victim’s

trauma 

goes away

Only

Victims

Know

the scars

are

here

to 

stay

dark short story, free form poetry, horror, mental disorders, mental health, mental health disorders, mental illness, poetry, post traumatic stress disorder, psychology, schitzophrenia, spoken word, suicidal ideations, suicidal thoughts, suicude

Excerpt from – Julianna’s Mental Prison – Short Story by Annie

“It is a truly terrifying thing, watching someone completely break from reality. Watching and listening helplessly as they cross over into a place of complete and utter darkness.

A place so terrifying that the best horror movies just barely scratch the surface,” Roshelle trailed off and stared at her shoes.

Then she continued with emphasis, “To allow someone to bring you inside of their violent, dark, twisted and terrifying delusions is a dangerous mistake.”

“It would be a mistake for anyone. But for someone gifted with compassion and empathy like Julianna, it was a deadly mistake. Terrifying beyond the worst thoughts, the worst nightmares, the worst fears you could possibly imagine.

So terrifying that she used to groan in the middle of the night. Not a normal human groaning but a animal-like howling, sounding from very pits of primal fear. The hellish utterances of complete mental anguish.” Roshelle shivered a little and pulled her knitted wrap  up around her shoulders.

Bruce sat in silence for a few minutes and found himself buttoning up the last few buttons on his overcoat. Finally he stammered, “Poor Julianna. She suffered unfairly.”

Roshelle forgave him for his lack of being able to verbally express his horror at her vivid description of Julianna’s anguish. It was simply unfathomable that Julianna could have endured such suffering and torment for so many years.